Author Archives: Erin

So, I’ve been doing yoga since the spring semester wrapped. And it always makes me think of San Francisco. While I was out there that month (two summers ago–two! I can’t believe it’s been that long), I took classes in a fading blue Victorian across the street from Golden Gate Park. I could walk there [...]

It’s been six months since Tom died. I keep having the same dream. Someone who has died is alive. But I know in the dream that person is about to die. Most of the time, it’s Tom. I dream that his death was a mistake. He was not dead, just sleeping. He has now woken [...]

There’s very little I remember about last Christmas. I feel like I can remember every moment of Thanksgiving, every moment right up until that text, right up until I heard the news. After that, my memory comes in fragments. Impressions. I know we went to Jessica and Nathan’s wedding, and we danced desperately, danced like [...]

Something I’ve learned about grief: It’s not linear. It doesn’t dissolve in a smooth curve upward. Instead, it comes in fits and starts. Grief eases, gives you a break, a breather, and you think things are getting better, things are looking up, the sun has started to peek through the clouds, the frost is thawing, [...]

Well, our weather has finally figured out it’s winter. The morning air is frigid, and the heaters in the buildings at school operate at various levels of competency. One day, they’ll be full blast, and we’ll all be sweating, as we toss aside our scarves and roll up the sleeves of our sweaters. The next [...]

About

I'm a twentysomething MFA grad enjoying life in a state of flux, dreaming of Paris and San Francisco while loving the warm summer evenings in North Carolina. I'm a little irreverent, a little mercurial, with an uncanny knack for putting my foot in my mouth.